UNews - Chinatown

Leading behind the scenes

trevor.kenney — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 21:39:46 +0000

Forget about spreadsheets and market analysis. If you want to hatch an incredibly successful idea, one of the best ways to do it is to scratch your musings on a paper napkin. The method might be unorthodox, but it's hard to argue with its effectiveness when you consider the list of businesses and ideas that got their start that way. The founders of Southwest Airlines, the professor who came up with trickle-down economics, and the duo who created the game Trivial Pursuit all used napkins as a springboard for their ideas. It's not a bad club, and it's one that Christian Darbyshire (BMgt '99) is happy to be a part of.

Darbyshire is the co-owner and operator of tinePublic Inc. (pronounced "tiny" Public) – an internationally renowned special-events company with a rather prophetic origin.

Inspiration for tinePublic struck late one night in Toronto at a restaurant in Chinatown. Darbyshire was sitting across the table from his good friend Andy McCreath, eating soup and talking the way old buddies do. The duo has known each other since the age of 12 and has a long history together. As fate would have it, Darbyshire and McCreath had professional interests in common, too.

Christian Darbyshire has been able to secure some of the biggest names in the speaking business.

After serving several years in the trenches of the television industry, Darbyshire had carved out a profitable niche as a freelance production manager and publicist. McCreath was doing publicity work for the National Hockey League. As the night wore on, the soup disappeared and the conversation between the friends got inventive. They started to wonder what was stopping them from joining forces and creating their own company. They had been planning events and doing publicity for others for years. Why not combine their expertise and strike out on their own? They envisioned putting together speaking engagements that featured big headline names, producing and promoting the events, and selling tickets for a tidy profit. Darbyshire used the proverbial paper napkin to jot down a business plan. Before the night was over, he and McCreath were partners in a new event-planning venture – tinePublic Inc.

"We wanted to create events for young business professionals," says Darbyshire. "Most of the speaking engagements at that time were big-ticket dinner events that priced a lot of people out of the market. We wanted to produce events that drew a wider audience."

tinePublic's top choice for a first speaker was former U.S. president Bill Clinton. Darbyshire sent a letter to Clinton's organization requesting a meeting to discuss his company's proposal. It wasn't a big surprise that there was no response.

"I knew it was a long shot trying to line up such a big name right off the bat, but there was nothing to lose in trying," says Darbyshire. "I sent at least half a dozen letters to Clinton's office over two years, and made several phone calls, but it didn't get us anywhere. In the meantime I kept looking for another opportunity."

The brass ring presented itself a couple of years later in the form of a reality TV star – one Bill Rancic, winner of the first season of Donald Trump's television show, The Apprentice.

"The Apprentice was a massive success and Bill Rancic was huge," recalls Darbyshire. "It was 2005, and business in Alberta was booming. It was the perfect time to bring the current icon of business success to the public."

Darbyshire and McCreath contacted Rancic's people, scheduled a meeting and flew to New York. There, in Rancic's Manhattan office, the partners laid out a plan for the first speaking engagement the pair would produce. It would take place in Calgary, the epicentre of new business in Canada, and Rancic would be the headliner.

"He jumped on board right there," says Darbyshire, describing Rancic's response. "We couldn't believe it. Suddenly we were in business. That was it. The ball was in motion."
The next 30 days were a whirlwind of big-time planning on a shoestring budget. Darbyshire and McCreath cleaned out their bank accounts to pull it off, and a month later Bill Rancic was in Calgary in front of a group of 1,800 eager businesspeople. The success of that first engagement led to five more shows at venues across North America. The Rancic tour was tremendously popular and profitable.

"That's when we knew we were really onto something," says Darbyshire.

tinePublic was enjoying its first taste of success. Darbyshire and McCreath were busy planning a stream of new engagements when one day, out of the blue, Darbyshire picked up a call from the office of the man he'd been waiting for since day one – Bill Clinton. Clinton's office had received all the letters Darbyshire had sent over the years and was impressed by the company's recent success. They offered tinePublic the opportunity to co-ordinate speaking engagements for the former president and Darbyshire accepted the job on the spot.

"It wasn't until I hung up the phone that it occurred to me that maybe we'd bitten off more than we could chew," says Darbyshire.

Putting his worries aside, plans for the Clinton engagement went full steam ahead. The event took place several months later at the John Labatt Centre in London, Ont., in front of a crowd of 6,500 riveted attendees. Darbyshire and his partner doubled their investment that day, and went on to produce 10 more events with Clinton over the next two years.

The rest, as they say, is history. tinePublic has gone on to organize touring events for Tony Blair, Alan Greenspan, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Colin Powell, George W. Bush, Sarah Palin, Rudy Giuliani and Lance Armstrong among other cultural and political icons. The company has also expanded its business scope to include concert promotion (they've worked with performers like Elton John and Diana Ross). In addition to his work with McCreath, Darbyshire runs a public-relations firm that works with major finance, cosmetic, oil and gas, and mining companies across North America. In recognition of his hard work, Darbyshire was named to Canada's Top 40 Under 40™ in 2011.

Stories and anecdotes about the famous people Darbyshire has met are just under the surface of his speech, but he's far too professional to let any cats out of the bag. The most he'll tell you is that everyone he's worked with is quite candid, and the insights he's gained from high-profile people are extraordinary. When it comes to sharing the secret of his own success, however, Darbyshire is a lot more forthcoming.

"You can't let fear stop you, in life or in business," Darbyshire says. "I've been scared plenty of times, but I've always followed through. If you really work at something, it will most likely end up being OK, or really good, or even spectacular. You've got to use fear in a positive way. Never give up. And think big."

This story first appeared in the Fall 2011 issue of SAM magazine. For a look at a flipbook version of SAM, follow this link.

Home sweet home?

trevor.kenney — Thu, 18 Nov 2010 22:30:57 +0000

That's why an interdisciplinary group of researchers at the ��Ѹ��Դ��߿�Ƭ of Lethbridge has teamed up to study the NIMBY phenomenon, its impact on home renters and homebuyers in Lethbridge, and ultimately, how to combat the problem.

Kim Smith* (*Kim Smith is a pseudonym) is well acquainted with racism, especially when it comes to the Not In My Backyard (NIMBY) phenomenon. For most of her adult life, the long-time Lethbridge resident has encountered landlords who wouldn't rent to her because she is First Nations. Those who would accept her were often slumlords that didn't maintain their properties or respect their tenants.

Smith's story isn't uncommon. Dr. Yale Belanger, a professor of Native American Studies at the ��Ѹ��Դ��߿�Ƭ of Lethbridge, says NIMBY is happening in Lethbridge. That's why he's working with his U of L colleagues, Dr. Jo-Anne Fiske (Women's Studies) and Dr. David Gregory (Health Sciences), to study the phenomenon.

(L-R) Drs. Jo-Anne Fiske, Yale Belanger and David Gregory.

The team has interviewed dozens of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people in Lethbridge to better understand how NIMBY works, its impact on First Nations people and what can be done to eradicate the problem.

"Wherever people feel there might be social changes or impacts on the value of their home, or encounter people with whom they're not familiar, you'll find NIMBY," explains Fiske.

For victims, NIMBY means more than struggling to find a place to live.

"The sense of exclusion, marginalization and discrimination has a major impact on a citizen's well-being," she says.

The effects of the phenomenon are harsh, and as Gregory notes, this kind of discrimination has psychological consequences.

"It undermines one's self-worth and self-value," he says.

NIMBY has a long history in Lethbridge. Belanger, who's trained as a political historian and is the project's principal investigator, points out that until the 1860s and '70s, many Americans came to the Lethbridge area thinking they could set up homesteads, farms and ranches free of any interaction with First Nations people.

"They brought with them the notion that native people were a scourge of the frontier," says Belanger. "Not everyone exercised those ideas outright, but because they were in place, there was a strong disconnect between the first white settlers and the First Nations people."

Over time, the area's First Nations people were forced onto reserves by the government, further dividing people. Even after the government stopped monitoring and controlling their movements, most of them continued to stay on the reserve, only coming into town to do errands.

The first urbanization of Aboriginal people in Lethbridge happened in the 1970s. Now 40 years later, there are about 5,000 Aboriginal people living in the city. After close to a century of segregation, two groups that have traditionally had little interaction are now living next door to each other, explains Belanger. In many cases, frustrations have reached a boiling point, resulting in some residents being openly hostile to their First Nations neighbours.

But Belanger is quick to point out that the First Nations people weren't the only ones to be openly marginalized in Lethbridge. Around 1911, for example, a town council proclamation led to the consolidation of the Chinese business owners working in Lethbridge onto Second Ave. South where Chinatown is located today.

This "history of ghettoization," as Belanger puts it, is alive and well today with NIMBY. The discrimination comes in many variations and degrees. During interviews with the researchers, some people openly admitted that they didn't want Aboriginal people living next to them, but in many cases, prejudice was far subtler.

"Some people actually considered themselves supportive of First Nations groups, even though they didn't want them living nearby," says Belanger. "The stereotypes are entrenched, and people may not realize they're projecting a racist or discriminatory attitude," says Belanger.

Fiske agrees.

"Attitudes run deep," she says, and often these attitudes are rooted in fear. In the case of a native women's transition centre slated to be built in Lethbridge's Stafford area a couple of years ago, protesters expressed concern for neighbourhood safety, operating under the assumption "that native women posed a threat to the city," says Fiske.

She and the other researchers are actively working to bring their research to the community in the hopes of stimulating social change. In the last year or so, they've presented their work at academic conferences, community groups and city council.

While NIMBY is a phenomenon many Aboriginal people experience, there's been precious little research on it. In fact, urban Aboriginal people are often overlooked by researchers.

"In Canada, the majority of research with respect to First Nations people focuses on reserves," says Gregory. "But, with increasing numbers of Aboriginal people moving to the cities, there's a misalignment."

He'd like to see more work on urban Aboriginal people and is working with his two colleagues to establish the Regional Centre for Urban Aboriginal Research.

"We have been networking with the local First Nations and Aboriginal communities in an effort to establish working relationships to enhance the ��Ѹ��Դ��߿�Ƭ of Lethbridge's research capital within the local urban context," Gregory explains.

In addition to doing work with, about and for Aboriginal people, the research centre would bring together researchers from different disciplines, much like the NIMBY project.

"It's more comprehensive, with multiple perspectives coming to bear on a phenomenon," he says.

All of the researchers stress that the research isn't about pointing fingers at Lethbridge's citizens and painting the city as a racist place.

"We've all chosen Lethbridge; it's our home. It's not simply a research project – we're pursuing this research for the betterment of the community," says Belanger.

For more information on the Regional Centre for Urban Aboriginal Research, visit: www.urbanaboriginalresearch.com

For a look at the full issue of SAM in a flipbook format, follow this link.

UNews - Chinatown

Leading behind the scenes

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Home sweet home?

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